Hiss and Hearse
by cobalt-blue
Summary: How did Scott's dad get bitten by an Indian Cobra in Beacon Hills? Takes place just a few days after Season 4 ends. Pairings as per the show.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:**

First off, I am not the typical fan of Teen Wolf. I don't fit the age group of most of the fans, but then again, the same can be said of the other fandom I write for. I'm a middle age former elementary and middle school teacher turned writer. I discovered Teen Wolf while I was recovering from a series of strokes and was taken with the story and the characters.

Secondly, if you are interested in more about Aspen, Drusilla, Sterling, and River you can find them in my novel, Nighthaven: The Lost Prince on sale at Amazon dot com. Just look for kindle books by yours truly, Cobalt-Blue. You may have to turn off the filters because it's included among the more "adult" stories. (End of shameless plug)

Finally, anyone who knows me from my other fandom will know that I have a history as a comic book writer so I tend to write my chapters as if they were an issue of a comic book. One of the primary jobs of a writer in comics is to get the reader to not only buy the comic in their hand but to buy the next issue as well. That's why I've been called the "King of the cliffhanger- even won an award for it.)

So, here's hoping you enjoy the story. I've tried to be true to the feel of the series and to keep the characters "in character".

Cobalt-Blue

**Chapter 1: Snakes in Beacon Hills?**

"Beacon Hills, California?" River asked looking over to her companions. Last semester had been grueling and intense, and it didn't look like it was going to get any better until they'd hunted down the last of the naga that were trying to kill Aspen and found out who hired them. "That's about three hundred or so miles from my home. Why did they go there?" The thought of the naga being that close to the young changeling's family did not sit well with her.

Drusilla leaned back in her chair and said, "That's the home of Agent McCall. We think they went after him and his family. The naga don't do things in half-measures. If they think he is a threat to them, then they'll take out him, his family and anyone else that might be associated with him."

"McCall was an ass," Sterling looked up from where he was twining a bow string carefully between his fingers. "But he and his family don't deserve to be targeted by the naga." He stopped for a moment and then asked, "What's so special about McCall?"

"We don't know," River said. "Miss Grimmrock thinks that he may have a lead on who hired the naga."

"That would make our job easier. So when do we go to Beacon Hills?" Aspen asked from where the redhead had been quietly brooding since they'd found out that the naga had withdrawn from the Devlinsport.

"It's not quite that easy Princess," Drusilla said. She looked over at River and said, "I'm sure River can explain why."

The blonde simply nodded and replied, "Beacon Hills has always sort of been a werewolf haven. But about two years ago things went from haven to full-blown battlefield. A new beta joined their ranks and started making some serious waves. Enough waves to attract a pack of alphas that went in to make him join them or kill him."

"I take it we're talking about arcana werewolves then?" Aspen said.

Sterling chuckled and said, "I said that werewolves were the dumb jocks of the shifting breeds, and the arcana wolves even more so, but from what I've heard about some of these wolves, they take it to a whole new level. They got messed up with a couple of hunter clans, some woman who thought she was a dark druid, a werejaguar who used to be a hunter and a bunch of Japanese oni being led by a dark kitsune. When all the dust was cleared, the beta had become a true alpha, the alpha had become a wolf lord, and the alpha who started the whole mess got locked up in an insane asylum."

Aspen shook his head and said, "Tribe politics make my head hurt bad enough, arcana conflicts make no sense."

"Welcome to the Tribes of Night, Princess," Sterling said. "Now do you understand why we have to be careful if we go there?"

"If?" Aspen asked. The redheaded changeling's voice suddenly became very firm. "I meant what I said, Sterling. No more innocents die because of me. If the naga have gone there then we go there too, if for no other reason than to make sure they don't kill anybody else. But we have other reasons. If this Rafe McCall has information on where to find the naga's employer, then we need it too."

"Just pointing out that the situation is going to be murky, Princess," Sterling said. "And it's going to be compounded by the fact we'll be traveling with Drusilla. That means black-out windows during the day and making sure she's got a blood supply." He turned and smiled at the dark-headed woman sitting on the sofa of their suite.

"I can take care of myself," Drusilla replied. "My mother has connections in San Francisco that can make sure we have a suitable place to stay and even a stocked cellar. She employs specialists just for this kind of thing."

"So when do we leave?" Aspen asked again.

"I'll make the arrangements," River said picking up the tablet in her lap. "I'm sure I can get the expenses covered from house funds."

The others nodded. Aspen said quietly, "Do it."

Scott knew something was wrong the moment he heard his mother knocking at the door. He was tempted to chalk it up to his wolf senses, but he knew it was something he'd had before he became a werewolf. It was something he had all of his life. Maybe it was something to do with learning to walk on eggshells when his father still lived with them or maybe it was something else. Anyway, he knew she was upset even through the door.

"Scott?" his mother said as she knocked a second time and opened the door. He was immediately hit with the scent of jasmine and sandalwood, his mother's favorite perfume.

He rolled over and pushed the blanket down to cover his hips. Yeah, his mom was a nurse, but there were still some things that he was embarrassed about her knowing and the typical male's reaction to waking in the morning was at the top of the list. "Yeah, mom?"

She looked around the room quickly to make sure that they were alone. He knew that over the years, she'd known that it wasn't unusual for Stiles to sneak into the house without her knowing it. It had sort of become a game between them. "I need you to get up and get dressed. We have to go..., _you_ have to go to the hospital."

That single comment sent the last vestiges of sleep scattering away from his mind and he found himself going almost immediately into alpha mode. "Hospital? What's wrong? It's not Stiles is it?" He suddenly had a horrible image of his best friend lying in the hospital room again, the tumor in his brain once again making itself known.

She smiled sadly at him and said, "No. It's not Stiles. It's your father. He's in a coma."

"Dad?" he asked. "What? How?"

"I don't know," she told him. I don't have all the details. I just got the call a few minutes ago," she told him as she came in and sat on the bed next to him. "Just get dressed, and meet me downstairs."

He nodded and asked, "Is it something with his job?"

Again she shook her head and reached to brush a raven lock of hair from his eyes. "I don't know. All I know is what Doctor Dunbar told me. He said that Rafe was in ICU in a coma and that I should have you come down, immediately."

Scott nodded to his mother as she stood again. "Well, hurry up," she pressed him.

"Mom," he raised an eyebrow at her and indicated the covers.

"Oh," she said suddenly blushing. "I'll just go and wait downstairs."

"Thanks," he told her.

He watched as she slipped back out the door, and closed it gently, mouthing, "I'll just wait downstairs," and then pointed behind her.

This situation did not sound good. Scott and his father still had not ironed out their differences. Agent McCall had explained to Scott that he had to go to San Francisco for a hearing to explain why he killed the guy who was about to shoot Stiles. Scott didn't have a problem with that. His father had saved his best friend. But then he'd gotten called away on another case, something in New England, in Massachusetts or Maine, Scott never could keep those states straight in his head. He was supposed to have gotten back yesterday afternoon and the two of them had plans to go for lunch today.

Scott rolled out of bed, and pulled on a pair of jeans that didn't smell too old. Padding into the bathroom, he brushed his teeth and took care of morning business before pulling on a sweatshirt and his sneakers and then heading downstairs. As he hit the bottom landing, his mother handed him a bagel and a carton of orange juice. "Come on," she told him and headed out the door.

The ride to the hospital was in comfortable silence as both he and his mother were caught up in their own thoughts and didn't feel the need to fill the car with idle chatter. His mother used her ID to get them up to the ICU without any difficulty where they found Doctor Dunbar nearly yelling into the phone.

"I don't give a damn if you have to grow wings and fly it up here yourself, I need that antivenin now!"

There was a brief exchange from the other end of the phone, and then the man said, "Just get it here as soon as possible. A man's life is at stake."

He put down the phone and turned to them. Realizing that he had an audience, he shook his head and said, "Sorry about that."

"What's the situation?" Melissa asked.

Doctor Dunbar shook his head and said, "Not good. We've had to put him on a respirator, the venom has already shut down about half the nerves in his diaphragm."

"Venom?" Scott asked suddenly remembering the claws of the kanima and how it could paralyze its victims.

Dunbar turned to Scott and said, "Best we can tell, your father was bitten several times by some kind of snake. The only snake that matches the symptoms he's having makes no sense. First it's too cold in this part of California at this time of year. Second how in the world did a cobra get here?"

"Cobra?" Scott asked suddenly confused.

The doctor nodded his shaved head and said, "Yes. He's showing all the symptoms of being bitten by an Indian cobra. He was bitten at least four times and each time received a massive dose." He shrugged and said, "He hasn't been to India or Pakistan lately has he?"

"No," Scott shook his head saying. "He went to somewhere in New England just before coming home."

"Where would he be bitten by a cobra?" Melissa asked.

"We don't know. He called nine one one from his apartment, and said he'd been snake bit. He evidently left the door to his apartment open so the police and the EMTs could get in. When they got to him, he was barely breathing. We almost didn't get him on the respirator in time." He took a deep breath and said, "He's in a coma right now."

"A coma?"

"Yes," the doctor said. "It's not unusual for these kinds of envenomation, at least according to Doctor Bush down in Loma Linda who is advising me on this."

"Where's the snake?" Scott asked.

"According to the EMTs there was no sign of a snake anywhere."

"Can we see him?" Melissa asked next to Scott.

Doctor Dunbar looked over at them and nodded, "Just for a moment." He then led them to one of the ICU isolation rooms where his father was.

When Scott remembered his father, he always remembered him as a tall vibrant man. Seeing him lying there in a hospital bed with tubes running out of his body, his face the color of cold ashes did not sit well with his sense of reality. And there was a smell in the room, something that smelled like old gym socks.

He felt his mother's hand on his shoulder. It was a calming presence that reminded him that she had and would always be there for him. It was comforting, and Scott could feel himself wrapped up in a familial love. At this moment, he desperately needed a hug that would make it all go away, make it all better like when he was three and fell and skinned his knee. He needed it, but felt that he was too old to ask for it.

To Scott's surprise, she gave it to him anyway. It didn't make things all better, but it did make him feel better to know that his mom was there for him, and knew him well enough to give him what he needed- even when he was too stubborn to ask.

They turned and left the room talking quietly about how this could have happened. Things had been sort of calm the last week or so since they'd gotten back from Mexico. Derek was settling in at his place, learning about what he'd become. Lydia and Parrish were exploring Allison's bestiary to try and find out what kind of supernatural the deputy was, and things were settling down for the pack. Even Liam was acting calmer.

"Do you think this is somehow related to the other things going on in Beacon Hills?" his mother asked.

Scott rubbed his jaw and thought about the question. "I don't know. It's weird, that's for sure. How could Dad come into contact with a Cobra here? Maybe Stiles and I will drive over to his place and sniff around."

His mother raised an eyebrow and asked, "Sniff?"

Scott just grinned at her as he reached for his telephone.

Stiles watched his best friend as he drove the two of them over to Agent McCall's apartment in the center of town. He knew Scott was worried about something, and he knew it was something other than the fact that his father was in a coma at the hospital. Something else was eating at him. "Want to tell me what's eating you?" he finally asked.

Scott looked at him and said, "Me? Nothing."

"You haven't told me anything about what's going on, just your dad is in a coma, and that you wanted to check out his place because you're wondering if it has anything to do with the beacon spell on Beacon Hills."

"He was snake bitten," Scott told him.

"Okay," Stiles said. "It's a little early in the year for snakes but that's not something to get your wolf instincts in a knot."

Scott was silent for a few minutes as Stiles maneuvered their way through Saturday morning traffic in downtown Beacon Hills. Finally, he looked over at Stiles and said, "My dad is in a coma, and I can't find it in myself to be upset about it. It almost seems as if it's someone I barely know."

"He _is_ someone you barely know, Scott," Stiles told him. "He's been out of your life for a while. Not breaking down into tears and going off screaming is pretty normal for this kind of situation.

"This is a normal situation?" Scott asked.

"You know what I mean," Stiles told him. "And that's not what's bothering you. Spit it out," he said.

Scott gave him a surprised look and then looked out the passenger window of the jeep and said, "Does the fact that I don't feel like I should make me a bad person?"

"Will you listen to yourself?" Stiles said frustrated. "You take care of everybody else around you. You look out for everybody else's safety constantly, and you take an extra second to make sure we're all safe." Again with the surprised look, but Stiles nodded, "And don't think I haven't noticed the extra second you take to look over at me when we're in a fight. At first I thought it was you getting distracted and then I realized it was you being pack alpha."

"What are you talking about?" Stiles asked.

"You care about your pack. Hell, in that fight with Peter, you didn't really go off on him until he attacked Liam. Then the look on your face was," he stopped and smiled at the memory and what it reminded him of. "I mean really. You gave Peter this look like you were about to ask him _Did you just throw something at my son?, _and then you went all alpha on him. After that point, he couldn't lay a hand on you. You care about people, Scott. That's your strength, and your weakness."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Scott asked him.

"You take that extra second to check on us. You doubt yourself, even now. You are wondering if the fact that you are not having the kind of relationship like I have with my dad makes you a bad person. It doesn't. It makes you human. You and your dad," Stiles shook his head. He didn't want to give away too much of what he knew about the situation behind all of this, "you haven't had that kind of relationship because he's been out of the picture. You can't pick up where you left off. You're almost an adult, hell we're _all_ almost adults, and so you two are going to have redefine each other in your own minds. The very fact that this is tearing you up inside answers your question. You're good people."

Scott smiled and said, "Thanks."

"Denada," Stiles told him. "But don't let it go to your head."

Scott was silent for the rest of the trip, caught up in his own thoughts, and Stiles was comfortable leaving it at that.

The first thing that he noticed about the apartment was the smell. It reminded him of a cross between old cheese, a litter box, and Greenberg's gym locker. "Geez! Hasn't your dad ever thought about cleaning?"

"I think this is more than just being a slob," Scott said as Stiles actually looked at the room. Drawers were out of chests dumped upside down, clothes were strewn out of the closet, and it looked like someone had empty the pantry can by can.

"Someone has tossed your dad's place," Stiles said.

"No duh?" Scott asked. "Just now figuring that out?" He looked around as if searching for something, and crinkled his nose, "What _is_ that smell?"

"Don't know, but it's nasty," Stiles said as the two picked their way across the living room. He noted that someone had pulled the cushions of the sofa out of their covers. "Well, here's thirty two cents and an old pen," he said as he bent down to pick up the wayward cover.

He heard a hissing and then there were two blurs of motion faster than his eyes could follow. The next thing he realize was that Scott's fist was closed around something just inches in front of his zipper. A wide mouth with fangs dripping venom was struggling to bite him. As it wriggled and writhed, his mind connected the object in his hand with the long snake attached to it. It took a moment to realize that his friend had just saved him from being bitten in the one place he could never ask a friend to "suck out the venom". He and Scott were close, but not _that_ close. He leaped back from his best friend who had now wolfed out and was holding about five feet of snake in his hand. "What the hell is that?!"

Scott growled over at him, "Indian cobra."

For a few seconds, Stiles' heart raced and his mind became a jumble of possibilities, and none of them good. He jumped and stomped around and screaming, "What the hell is a cobra doing in Beacon Hills?! Please tell me this isn't some new kind of big bad that's going to be killing folks right and left."

"Stiles," Scott said still wolfed out.

He looked at the snake in Scott's hand and said his heart still pounding in his chest, "Thank you by the way. And I'm sure Malia will thank you too."

"Stiles," Scott said again.

As he calmed down, and started looking around he asked, "What?" Stiles said.

Scott said. "Two things."

"What?"

"First, what if there are more of them in here?"

"Ouch! Don't say that!" Stiles protested but then realized that his friend was perfectly right. He began to look around carefully. Picking up an umbrella from the corner, he started using it to look under various objects around the room while Scott stood there holding the reptile in his hands. Finally, more calmly, he asked, "What was the second thing?"

Scott looked over at him and held up the writhing snake he had behind the head and asked, "How do I get rid of this thing now?"

**Author's note AGAIN**

Author's note:

First off, I am not the typical fan of Teen Wolf. I don't fit the age group of most of the fans, but then again, the same can be said of the other fandom I write for. I'm a middle age former elementary and middle school teacher turned writer. I discovered Teen Wolf while I was recovering from a series of strokes and was taken with the story and the characters.

Secondly, if you are interested in more about Aspen, Drusilla, Sterling, and River you can find them in my novel, Nighthaven: The Lost Prince on sale at Amazon dot com. Just look for kindle books by yours truly, Cobalt-Blue. You may have to turn off the filters because it's included among the more "adult" stories. (End of shameless plug)

Finally, anyone who knows me from my other fandom will know that I have a history as a comic book writer so I tend to write my chapters as if they were an issue of a comic book. One of the primary jobs of a writer in comics is to get the reader to not only buy the comic in their hand but to buy the next issue as well. That's why I've been called the "King of the cliffhanger- even won an award for it.)

So, here's hoping you enjoy the story. I've tried to be true to the feel of the series and to keep the characters "in character".

Cobalt-Blue


	2. Chapter 2 Snakes and potatoes

Author's note:

First off, I am not the typical fan of Teen Wolf. I don't fit the age group of most of the fans, but then again, the same can be said of the other fandom I write for. I'm a middle age former elementary and middle school teacher turned writer. I discovered Teen Wolf while I was recovering from a series of strokes and was taken with the story and the characters.

Secondly, if you are interested in more about Aspen, Drusilla, Sterling, and River you can find them in my novel, Nighthaven: The Lost Prince on sale at Amazon dot com. Just look for kindle books by yours truly, Cobalt-Blue. You may have to turn off the filters because it's included among the more "adult" stories. (End of shameless plug)

Finally, anyone who knows me from my other fandom will know that I have a history as a comic book writer so I tend to write my chapters as if they were an issue of a comic book. One of the primary jobs of a writer in comics is to get the reader to not only buy the comic in their hand but to buy the next issue as well. That's why I've been called the "King of the cliffhanger- even won an award for it.)

So, here's hoping you enjoy the story. I've tried to be true to the feel of the series and to keep the characters "in character".

Cobalt-Blue

Sterling looked around at the condo Drusilla's mother had arranged. It was more than adequate, and was defensible. Best of all, the windows, like those in the car awaiting them when they arrived were made of a special glass that completely filtered out the the UV spectrum of sunlight. They wouldn't have to use blackout blinds to keep the sun out during the day.

There were three bedrooms, which meant that sombody was going to double up, and that was okay, since one of them always doubled with Aspen whenever the changeling actually went to sleep. Over the last few months, Sterling and his two companions had grown to take their job of protecting the lost prince, or princess as the whim hit him, of House Aldebaran very seriously. The battle with the naga, and the disagreement with the pack of werewolves back in Devlinsport had made them very aware that if they weren't careful, Aspen would not live long enough to take his place among the rulers of their people.

There was a fully stocked cellar for Drusilla, and of course the cupboard wasn't lacking either. Sterling was forced to actually keep his mind on the mission and not let his stomach distract him- no matter how juicy the steaks in the fridge looked. Again he found himself impressed with their resident vampiri's family's connections. It would appear that there really was very little that the correct application of money could not accomplish. He looked over at the clock on the wall, and realized that they had managed to pick up a few hours with their flight in from Boston. It was a tricky thing to time their flight so that the could leave at night and arrive before the sun rose, but that was one of the difficulties in traveling with a vampiri.

"So what now?" River asked.

"Now, you and I stay here and do some computer based research while Sterling and Aspen go find Agent McCall. I would start with his home," Drusilla said.

"You want to send Aspen out into possible danger? We know this place is crawling with arcana werewolves, and who knows what else?" River asked.

"Do you have a better suggestion?" the raven haired girl asked, as she pulled a blood red strand that edged the sides of her face back behind her ear.

"I could go with Sterling and Aspenc stay here and do the computer research," River suggested.

Sterling turned to the redheaded changeling and asked, "How are your computer skills, Princess?" He nodded over to River and asked, "Have you caught onto her technopathic skills yet?"

Aspen gave him an incredulous look and said, "Compared to what she can do, I can barely turn the thing on."

Sterling smiled and said, "Let's use our strengths where we have them. I promise, I'll keep an eye on him, but we can't wrap him in bubble wrap and still complete our mission of finding out who is hiring the naga to kill him. There is an innate kernel of danger in just being a part of the Tribes of Night."

"He's right, River," Drusilla said. "And to be honest, Aspen has done everything we've asked him to do since that attack on the school. He's not throwing himself into danger because he wants to be difficult. This is a measured risk. And three quarters of a ton of raging sabercat is enough to make most arcana back off if things did get violent."

"Okay, okay," River said raising her hands "I'll stay here and do your computer searches for you. But I want you, both of you to check in every hour on the hour."

Sterling and Aspen looked at each other and shrugged. "Yes, mother," Aspen said.

"I'm not doing this to be difficult, Aspen. I know you can take care of yourself, but you are _our_ responsibility, and I take my responsibilities seriously," River said.

"Now you sound like Drusilla," Aspen told her.

"I'll take that as a compliment," River and the young vampiri said in unison.

"They're impossible when they get this way," Aspen told him. Then turning to Sterling, he said, "Let's get out of here, before they want to change our diapers."

"That could be fun," Sterling said. "I'm not above a bit of roleplay."

"Slut," Aspen said as he grabbed his jacket."

"Never claimed not to be," Sterling replied. "But before you get too critical, remember who invited who to their bed first." Aspen had the good graces to blush at that. Sterling himself would never forget that first night in the suite when Aspen had had a nightmare and Sterling went to check on him. He'd been touched by the tenderness the young changeling displayed as he explored what his powers had done to his body making him both male and female and anything in between that he chose to be.

"Come on, Kitty-kitty," the redhead finally said. "Let's go snake hunting."

Ten minutes later they were navigating the streets of downtown Beacon Hills, and Aspen seemed to be caught up in his own thoughts as the buildings flowed by. "Something bothering you, Red?" he asked.

The changeling turned and looked at him and once again Sterling found himself marvelling at how attractive the blending of male and female features were on his charge, his lover, and his friend. "I was just hoping that we've gotten here in time. I hate to think of anybody else dying because the naga are after me."

"Don't beat yourself up over this, Aspen. Yes, they killed your parents, and they did it brutally, and yes, poor brave Ambrose threw himself between you and a hail of gunfire, but when you question yourself like this, you cheapen their sacrifice. No matter what you tell yourself, you _are_ worth the sacrifice. It's one that I, or Dru, or River would make in a heartbeat. It's one we've pledged to make, because you're worth it."

Aspen shook his head and said, "Do you have any idea how much pressure that put so n me? Knowing that people would willingly die to protect me?"

"Is that why you won't give up the hunt? You feel that you have to prove that you're worth it?"

Aspen shrugged noncommittally "I don't know. I know that I owe it to them to find out who paid the naga, and take them down." He sighed and then added, "But yeah, I guess you're right. Maybe I do wonder if I'm worth it. What's so special about me that people would give their lives to protect me?" He turned to face Sterling and in a voice that was almost pleading in its intensity asked, "Why do _you_ do it, Sterling? Why do _you_ stay by my side?"

"Because I think you're worth it," Sterling said. I've grown quite fond of you over the past few months. We connect in ways that I can't completely understand. Prince Aspen is becoming the best friend that I always wanted and never had. Princess Aspen on the other hand is also a friend that I treasure." He frowned slightly and said, "And the fact that the sex is the best I've ever had is just a bonus."

"Is that part the male Aspen, or the female Aspen?" the changeling asked.

"Both are good, but it's best when you're both, when you are just you. The same goes for the friendship. And I'm sure Drusilla and River would say the same. Hell, they've both told me the same," Sterling said with a smile.

Aspen shook his head and said, "I don't think that Gerens did me any favors when he openly acknowledged me as his heir. Everyone at school treats me like royalty, and I didn't grow up that way."

"That's because you _are_ royalty, or at least as close to royalty as the tribes have, Princess." He smiled at the redhead and said, "That name isn't just a nickname. It's a title, actually, the title is Regis which is gender neutral, as the royal house is all changelings, but Princess works as well, so get used to it."

"And you know how I feel about it too," Aspen said darkly.

"Oh yeah. And we completely believe you," he told her with a smile.

"You, Kitty-kitty are impossible," she said turning back to look at the street outside the car.

"I do try, Princess. I try my best."

"Kill it," Stiles told his best friend, trying not to freak at the idea of Scott standing there holding a deadly snake just behind the head. Well, at least trying not to freak any more than he already had.

"Stiles, I'm a vet-tech. We don't kill animals we don't have to," Scott protested as he looked at the snake writhing in his hand.

"My turn for two things,"Stiles said.

"What?" Scott asked.

"The first is that the snake in your hand is very probably the very snake that put your dad in the hospital," Stiles told him.

"And secondly?" Scott asked unconvinced.

"It's cold in this apartment right now, and it's even colder outside. Snakes from the tropics start getting nerve damage and die anyway at temperatures below sixty degrees. Killing it would be kinder than letting it die from hypothermia. You put down animals that are too sick to live at Deaton's every week."

Stiles watched as Scott's eyes narrowed and he knew the alpha werewolf was listening t his heartbeat to see if Stiles was lying. Finally, Scott looked down at the broad head just under his thumb and then back up to Stiles. He said, "I can't do it, Stiles. It's helpless. Look around and see if you can find something to put it in."

Stiles groaned out loud and realized that his best friend really was a white hat. He wasn't going to kill a deadly snake in his hand if he could get away with not doing it. Carefully he picked his way through the wreckage that was Agent McCall's apartment, looking for something big and with a lid that they could put the snake in. He was still wary of Scott's warning that there might be other cobras in the apartment so his search was careful. In the kitchen, as he picked his way past rolling cans, scattered boxes of uncooked pasta, and a package of tortilla shells, he spotted a large wooden bin with the word "potatoes" carved in its lid.

Carefully steadying the bin, he used the umbrella to tip the heavy wooden lid off to the side and checking to make sure any of the cobra's possible brothers, or sisters, or wives, or boyfriends or whatever weren't hiding inside. Looking down, all he saw was a mass of brown lumps, some which showed small sprouts coming out of them speaking volumes of Agent McCall's kitchen skills. He turned the heavy wooden bin upside down and watched the potatoes roll out and scatter across the linoleum floor. As he turned back to Scott something small and blue caught his eye. Bending over he picked up the small blue square with "SD 8 GB" on the side. "Scott! I found something!"

"Just hurry up and bring it in here. This thing is starting to get desperate!"

Shoving the SD card into his pocket he grabbed the bin and the lid and headed back into the living room where the snake was beginning to lash angrily back and forth along Scott's arm. "Here," Scott said. "Set it down in front of me, and hand me the lid."

Stiles did as his friend asked then stepped back. After a couple of false tries where the snake's body refused to go into the bin, Scott looked over and said, "You put it's tail and body in and then stand back."

Carefully, Stiles stepped around behind Scott and grabbed the snake's body. He was surprised that it felt dry in his hands, and not slick and slimy. He was also surprised at the creature's strength as it writhed to try and break free as he shoved it's coils into the cool confines of the potato bin. When he was clear, Scott shoved the head of the snake down into the bin and slammed the lid shut.

Several dull thumps against the side of the bin later and the lid began to rise. Scott slammed it down again and held it in place while looking around. "Find something heavy to put on top of it!" Scott said still looking around. "There! That!" he pointed in the direction of a heavy oak end table that was overturned against the entertainment center. Stiles ran over, grabbed it and hefted it up on top of the lid of the bin, it's legs sticking up in the air like a dead cow..

"Good job," Scott said. Now we need to find something to strap that top on so that we can take it back to the clinic."

"Take it back to the clinic? Stiles asked. "Why do you want to take it back to the clinic?"

"Because I don't want someone to come in and try to open it to see what's inside and get bitten," Scott said.

"And you want to take it back in my car?" Stiles asked.

"Beats walking with it," Scott said.

"Says you!" Stiles told him. "What if it gets loose in the car? You might survive it, but I sure the heck probably wouldn't."

"Survive what?" Scott asked.

"The accident it would cause when I crapped my pants and jumped out! Not to mention if it bit me!" He calmed down a bit and asked, "You're serious?"

"We can't leave it here," Scott said. "And we've still got to search this place to see if there's any clue as to why Dad was bitten by that thing," Scott said.

Stiles nodded and then remembered the card in his pocket. "Oh! Here," he said. "I found this in with the potatoes. Maybe what we're looking for is on it."

Scott just grinned at him as he disappeared into the back of the apartment. He called back and said, "I bet Dad hid it there." There was a few seconds of silence as Scott evidently searched the area and then called back, "Here' we go!" There was some rummaging in the room and then Scott came out of the back of the apartment carrying several bungee cords in his hands.

They tied the lid to the bin down with the cords and wrestled it into Stiles' jeep. Then as Scott went back to lock the door, Stiles noticed a late model SUV pull up. Two people got out and looked over toward the apartment complex. One was a tall male, with silver blond hair and wore an expensive pair of stylish glasses. He was good looking, good looking on the same level as Jackson Whittemore, but without the casual arrogance that Jackson exuded. Instead there was an openness and friendliness that reminded Stiles more of Danny. He also moved with the easy confidence and grace of a cat. He was wearing a pair of black jeans, a shirt with an old map motif on it, and a heavy green cardigan.

The passenger in the car was shorter, with shoulder length hair that was deep red and coppery shining brightly in the afternoon sunlight. Through the red plaid shirt and jeans, he really couldn't tell if the person was male or female, but they were attractive either way. The redhead looked around and smiled over at him and nodded in a friendly manner before following the other guy into the complex. He noted that as they passed Scott coming out of the stairwell both of the turned back to watch him walk past, both their eyes dropping to watch his hips.

Stiles shook his head and grinned at his friend as he climbed into the passenger seat. Looking over he saw Stiles' expression and asked, "What?"

"Nothing,"Stiles said. "Just nothing."

"Okay," Scott told him as they started the car and headed back to Deaton's. Once there, the vet cum emissary was surprised when Scott told him that they had a cobra in the bin.

"When did you start snake wrangling, Scott?" the man asked in his usual soft voice.

"When my dad was bitten last night by an Indian cobra. We went to check out his place this morning and found this one," Scott told him.

"You don't want to know where he almost bit me," Stiles said. Then looking over at Scott he said, "And again, thanks."

Scott just smiled at him but said nothing else about it. It was one of the things Stiles had always liked about his friend. He could be very easy going with these kinds of things, not that there had been much opportunity in the past for Scott to stop a cobra from biting Stiles on his bits and pieces. And that was something for which Stiles was immensely grateful.

"How did a cobra get in your dad's apartment?" Deaton asked as he set the bin down into a large examination tub and got out the snake stick he kept for wrangling their reptile patients.

"We don't know," Scott said. "But we found a hidden flash drive. Can we use your computer to open it?"

The vet nodded as he used the snake wrangling hook to undo the straps on the potato bin and pull the lid from the top. Stiles turned his attention back to the computer where Scott was pulling up files from the flash drive. Police reports mainly. Evidently a family in some place called Devlinsport had been bitten by cobras. Only the children survived and according to the police, it looked like the family had been sealed behind a brick wall in the basement. Only the sharp eyes of two deputies investigating unusual sounds had found them in time.

There were some notes, mostly copied and pasted from Wikipedia on something called naga, and report from the Department of Homeland Security about possible Taliban operatives in the US connected to something called the naga. Scott leaned back in his chair and asked, "Doc? What do you know about the naga?"

Stiles turned in time to see Deaton suddenly become very still. "Do you think this snake has something to do with the naga?" The vet's voice was suddenly very inquisitive and very worried.

"It could be," Scott said. "Dad was investigating something by that name."

The doc went over to a drawer and pulled out a long cleaver and said, "I don't know anything about nagas, and neither do you." Then much to Stiles surprise, he pinned the cobra in the tub and chopped off its head with a single stroke.


End file.
